Kristy's Wonderful Life
by Rachel D
Summary: After a bad night at the Rodowskys, Kristy's guardian angel shows her what the town would be like if she'd never formed the BSC.  COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

_**KRISTY'S WONDERFUL LIFE**_

A/N: Based loosely on the holiday classic. There may be several references to it, as well as other holiday movies.

**CHAPTER 1**

_"Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too-o-o. Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you. Outside, the snow is falling, and friends are calling 'yoo-hoo. Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you..."_

That was the song blaring from my clock-radio on a Wednesday morning. It also happened to be the last day of school before Christmas vacation.

Hi. My name's Kristy Thomas. I'm sixteen years old and a junior at Stoneybrook High School. I used to have a pretty big family, but now, most of them have moved out. My two older brothers Charlie and Sam, who are twenty and eighteen, respectively, attend NYU, where Charlie's a junior and Sam's a freshman. My younger brother, David Michael, is almost eleven and in fifth grade at Stoneybrook Elementary School. I have two stepsiblings and an adopted sister who attend Stoneybrook Academy, a private school in our neighborhood. My stepsister, Karen, is ten and in fifth grade; my stepbrother, Andrew, is seven and in second grade, and my adopted sister, Emily, is five and in kindergarten. My grandmother, Nannie, used to live with us to help take care of Emily, but now that Emily's in school, she felt that she wasn't needed as much, so she moved out, and now lives in an apartment complex at the end of our block.

How did I get this crazy family, you ask? Well, it all started soon after David Michael was born. That was when my dad walked out on us. He came back for a visit when I was thirteen, albeit a very brief one, and for reasons I'll never understand, he asked me to keep it a secret. That was the last time I saw him before he was killed in a plane crash about two and a half months ago. When I was twelve, Mom met, and eventually married, my stepfather, Watson Brewer. I'll admit, I disliked Watson at first, because part of me was still hoping Dad would come back. But Watson was able to win me over after I not only baby-sat for his kids on such short notice when Lisa, his ex-wife, broke her ankle. Then there was the time our family had a fondue dinner. When my bread fell off my fork, according to fondue etiquette, he was the person I kissed. Anyway, when Mom and Watson got married, he moved us from a tiny four-bedroom house on Bradford Court to a large ten-bedroom mansion. (In case you're wondering, yes, Watson's a millionaire.) Soon after that, Emily was adopted into the family, and like I said, Nannie moved in to help take care of things.

I have a wonderful group of friends. Together, we are the Baby-sitters Club, or BSC, but I'll tell you more about that later. Right now, it was time to get up and get ready for school. I reached into my drawer and pulled out a bluish-white turtleneck sweater and jeans. This particular sweater is my personal favorite, because printed on it are skiers, snowflakes, stars, candy canes, bells, snowmen, and Christmas trees. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and held it in place with a red-and-green checkered scrunchie, then went downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, Kristy," Watson said as soon as I sat down at the table.

"Good morning," I answered as I reached for a piece of toast.

"Last day?" Watson asked.

"Yup, until after Christmas," I answered. I ate as quickly as I could, and then I put my dishes in the sink. By the time I'd gotten my shoes on and brushed my teeth, David Michael and Emily had already sat down at the table. That's usually how it is in the mornings now that I'm in high school, and when Charlie and Sam still lived here, we older kids usually finished breakfast before the others got downstairs.

"You know, I kind of miss the craziness of weekday mornings, don't you?" I asked Mom as I grabbed my Patriots parka.

"Not really, honey," Mom answered. I could tell that she wasn't exactly thrilled about having a house full of people again. In fact, it reminded me of how crazy things were when Abby Stevenson, her mom, and her twin sister, Anna, had to spend the night at our house because their utilities weren't turned on yet. And let me tell you, it was a ZOO. It still took Mom some time to get over that one, though.

"Well, just wait until Karen and Andrew come," David Michael reminded us as he started his bowl of Crunch Berries.

"Not to mention Sam and Charlie coming in from New York," I added.

"All _right!" _Emily squealed. Mom groaned, but I could tell that she'd still be glad to see everyone again.

"Now, Elizabeth, don't worry; Charlie and Sam are in college now, I'm sure they've matured some," Watson reassured her.

_Charlie, maybe; Sam, I doubt it, _I thought. "Well, I'll see you later," I told everyone as I grabbed my keys from the cedar key rack by the fridge.

"Have a nice day," Watson said.

"Thanks," I called as I gathered up my books and bounded out the door.

I couldn't wait to see what the day would bring.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Abby and I arrived at Claudia Kishi's house at 5:05 that afternoon, got out of my car, and went inside. We used to ring the doorbell, but since we're now such frequent visitors, we don't have to anymore.

To no one's surprise, Claud was under her bed, foraging around for junk food. "Hi, Claud," I said.

"Hi," she answered, crawling out from under her bed with a box of rainbow-colored candy canes.

"Thanks," I said as I accepted one and took my usual seat in the director's chair. Abby turned the desk chair around and sat so she was leaning on the back of it. Since she's allergic to feathers and dust, that's her usual seat.

Maybe I should stop here and tell you more about the BSC. It all started when I was in seventh grade. Back then, Mom and Watson were still dating, and like I said before, Mom, my brothers, and I lived in a four-bedroom house on Bradford Court, next door to Mary Anne Spier and across the street from Claudia Kishi. In fact, if you connected our houses, it made a triangle.

Anyway, Sam, Charlie, and I took turns baby-sitting for David Michael one afternoon a week after school, and Mom had a girl named Kathy Patrick take the other two afternoons. As you may expect, there came a time when my brothers, Kathy, and I were all busy. You see, I'd had another baby-sitting job, and Kathy and my older brothers had after-school activities, so Mom got on the phone and started calling all over town, looking for another baby-sitter. I remember we were eating pizza that night, and I felt bad about Mom's pizza getting cold, and then it hit me: why should a parent waste an hour on the phone when they can make one call and reach a whole bunch of sitters at once? And like the saying goes, the rest is history.

I told my idea to Claudia and Mary Anne. They liked it, then I posed two more questions: where should we meet, and who else should we get to join? Claudia was able to help with both. We decided to meet in her room, since she had her own phone and phone number, and she introduced us to Stacey McGill, who had just moved from New York. Before too long, we were in business. Within a few months, we were getting so much business that we needed another member. That's when Mary Anne introduced us to Dawn Schafer, who'd recently moved here from California. Soon after that, Mr. McGill's company transferred him back to New York, and we invited Mallory Pike and Jessica Ramsey to join. When Stacey's parents got divorced, and she and her mom returned to Stoneybrook, we welcomed her back. Along the way, we acquired Abby Stevenson, Logan Bruno, Shannon Kilbourne, and Jason Everett, and over the years, the BSC has expanded, and we now have some new recruits in the group: Bebe Everett, Jason's stepsister; Vanessa Pike, Mallory's sister; Haley Braddock, and Charlotte Johanssen. Vanessa, Haley, and Charlotte are not only three of our former baby-sitting charges, as is Mallory, but they're also cheerleaders at SMS.

Claud is our VP, because like I said, we hold our meetings in her room, since she has her own phone and phone number. This is a good thing for two reasons. One, we don't have to tie up someone's phone line during our meetings, and two, Claud has the unfortunate task of taking calls during non-meeting times. Claud is sixteen and a junior at Stoneybrook High School. Her older sister Janine, who's nineteen, is a sophomore pre-med major at U-Conn, since she's planning to be a doctor. Their grandmother Mimi used to live with them, too, but she died when we were in eighth grade. Claud isn't exactly Super-Genius, like her sister, when it comes to schoolwork, but when it comes to art, she's Picasso. In fact, Claud had to repeat some of seventh grade, but thankfully, she was able to catch up and go to high school with us.

Mary Anne is the BSC secretary, as well as my best friend. She's also sixteen and a junior at SHS. If you think my family life is crazy, let me tell you about Mary Anne's. Her mom when she was a baby, and her dad was so upset that he sent Mary Anne to live with her mother's parents for a while. When Mary Anne was a year and a half old, he wanted her back. There wasn't a big court battle, and Mary Anne's grandparents reluctantly returned her. Mr. Spier wanted to prove that he could handle single parenthood, so he invented all these rules for Mary Anne to live by: she had to wear her hair in braids, she had to wear whatever he bought for her, stuff like that. As soon as Mary Anne was able to prove that she was growing up, he loosened up a bit. In fact, he married Sharon Schafer, his high school sweetheart, and Dawn's mother, and Dawn and Mary Anne became stepsisters. Last summer, though, Dawn moved back to California for good, because she missed too much there.

Stacey is the BSC treasurer, and like most of us, she's sixteen and a junior at SHS. Like my cousin, Robin, Stacey has diabetes, and has to stick to a strict diet. The summer before we started seventh grade, her dad's company transferred him to Connecticut, but just when Stacey settled in and joined the BSC, his company transferred him back to New York. We hated to see Stacey go, but a few months later, Stacey's parents got divorced, and she and her mom returned to Stoneybrook. Mr. McGill stayed in NYC because of his job, and Stacey visits him regularly He's also remarried, so Stacey has a stepmother named Samantha.

Abby lives down the street from me, and is the alternate officer of the BSC, which means that she takes over if someone has to miss a meeting. Dawn used to be one, too, until she moved back to California. The Stevensons are originally from Long Island, and they're also Jewish. We even got to attend their Bat Mitzvah, which is like a Bar Mitzvah for girls. When Abby and her sister, Anna, were nine, their father was killed in a car accident. Abby never lets it, or her many allergies, get to her, though.

Mal and Jessi are fourteen and freshmen at SHS. Jessi has an average-sized family: there are her parents and her Aunt Cecelia, who moved in to help when Mrs. Ramsey got a job. Her sister, Becca (AKA Rebecca), is eleven and in sixth grade at SMS, and her brother John Jr., formerly known as Squirt and now known as JJ, is four.

Mal has a pretty big family, like I do. In fact, she used to go to a boarding school in upstate Massachusetts, but she decided to return to Stoneybrook for high school, so we're really glad. Mal has seven siblings, and three of them are triplets. The triplets, Adam, Byron, and Jordan, are thirteen and in eighth grade; Vanessa's twelve and in seventh grade; and Nick's eleven and in sixth grade. They all attend SMS, and the rest attend Stoneybrook Elementary: Margo's ten and in fifth grade, and Claire's eight and in third grade. I pity those poor teachers. Just when they think they've had all the Pikes in their class, along comes another!

Mal and Jessi happen to be best friends, and love to read horse stories, but the similarities stop there. Mal is white, and Jessi is black. That didn't bother us BSC members one bit, but the Welcome Wagon wasn't exactly parked in the driveway when the Ramseys first moved to Stoneybrook. Another difference is their main interest. Mal loves writing stories, and Jessi loves ballet. In fact, I've seen Jessi dance, and she's really talented. I hope they'll make good use of their talents when they get older.

That leaves us with Logan, Shannon, Jason and Bebe, Haley, and Charlotte. Logan and Jason are juniors at SHS; Shannon is in eleventh grade at Stoneybrook Day School, and the only BSC member to go to a private school. Bebe, Charlotte, and Haley attend SMS, where Bebe's in eighth grade, and Charlotte and Haley are in seventh grade.

There's also something else I'd like to mention. Jason and Bebe are not only stepsiblings, but they're also the only ones not born in this country. Bebe was born in Toronto, Canada, and moved to Long Island with her dad when she was a baby. You'd think she wouldn't have an accent, but she has a very subtle one.

Jason was born in Scotland, and came to this country with his mom when he was four. Even though he was that young at the time, for some reason, his accent never went away completely, which adds to his charm. Nowadays, he sounds like the present-day Ewan McGregor, who happens to be one of Mary Anne's favorite actors. And the fact that Karen and Andrew love him to bits doesn't hurt, either. (By the way, don't tell Jason I said this, but I think I'm falling for him.)

Anyway, back to me. I put on my visor and stuck a pencil behind my ear. I looked at the clock, and saw that it was 5:28. All of the BSC members were in place, and Jessi was just rushing into the room, like she usually does, especially if she'd just come from ballet class. In just two minutes, another BSC meeting would be underway.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

As soon as Claudia's digital clock turned from 5:29 to 5:30, I sat up taller in my chair and said, "Order!"

"Yeah, I'll have a cheeseburger and a chef salad with the oil and vinegar on the side, but I don't want the cheese _on _the burger, I want it on the side, and I'm not so much looking for a burger as much as I'm looking for tuna fish," Abby said. "Actually, on second thought, I'm not looking for a burger at all, since they're not kosher, and I'm also allergic to cheese." I don't know how long it took us to stop laughing, but it took a while. What would we do without Abby?

"Okay, any club business?" I asked.

"Well, for starters, I'm glad it's Wednesday," Mal said.

"You guys just don't like parting with your money, do you?" Stacey asked as she pulled herself together. "Well, come to think of it, I was never crazy about it myself, but some things just have to be done. It's like me taking my insulin: unpleasant, but necessary."

"I suppose you're right," Mal agreed.

That's when the phone rang. Stacey cleared her throat, reached over, and hit the speakerphone button. (Our solution to a big problem.) "Baby-sitters Club," she said.

"Hi, it's Mrs. Rodowsky. Listen, my husband and I've been invited to a Christmas party on Saturday night. We'll be taking Shea with us, so there'll be just Jackie and Archie."

"Okay," I said, handing Mary Anne the record book.

"Kristy, you're the only one free," she said. "Want the job?"

"Sure," I said.

"Sounds like a plan," Mrs. Rodowsky said. "I'll see you at 6:00, and we should be 9:00."

"See you then," I said, and hung up.

That's basically how we work nowadays. Claud had gotten the speakerphone for Christmas when we were in eighth grade, and we were glad to have it. Before that, whenever a client called, the sitter was supposed to take down the information—mainly the number of kids being sat for, since our policy is that two sitters go if more than five kids need a sitter, and the length of time of the job—and call them back. At one time or another, the rule would be forgotten, and we were glad to have the speakerphone. Boom, problem solved.

That's not my only idea, though. I also invented Kid-Kits, which are like toy boxes that we take on baby-sitting jobs. They're basically boxes that we decorated and filled with our old toys and games, and we have to change supplies every once in a while. That makes us really popular with the kids.

We also have a club record book and a club notebook. The club notebook is more like a diary, where we write an account of every job we go on, and we read it once a week, so we know what to expect the next time we baby-sit for a particular family. I still remember when I came up with the idea after I'd gone on a job where I thought I'd be baby-sitting, but I ended up pet-sitting for twin St. Bernards. It's really helpful, because then we learn if a kid is going through a certain phase, like when Jamie Newton was terrified of Halloween, and when Claire Pike was calling everybody "silly-billy-goo-goo", and we can learn helpful information about a kid, like Nina Marshall's strawberry allergy, and Jackie Rodowsky's accident-prone nature, hence his nickname, the "Walking Disaster". The record book has two sections. Mary Anne is in charge of the scheduling, so the calendar pages are hers. She also knows everyone's schedules, like doctor and dentist appointments, Mal and Bebe's orthodontist appointments, Jessi's ballet classes, Stacey's trips to New York—you get the picture, right? Stacey's in charge of the money, and there's a section in the record book where she writes down what comes in, and what we spend on the occasional pizza or slumber party.

Anyway, back to the meeting. We took several more job calls, and lined up several more jobs. Before I knew it, it was 6:00. Meeting adjourned," I announced as I stood up and took my visor off. (All right, I know you want to, so go ahead: "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds. _You _say that." "What?" "Meeting is adjourned." It is." "No, you _say _that, Governor." "What?" "Meeting is adjourned." "It is?")

As I left Claudia's room, I wondered what kind of mischief Jackie would get into this time.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm getting to the good part, don't worry.

**CHAPTER 4**

I arrived at the Rodowskys' at 5:45 on Saturday afternoon and rang the doorbell, which was answered by twelve-year-old Shea. "Hi, Shea," I said.

"Hi, Kristy," he answered. He was wearing dark blue dress pants, a pale blue shirt, and white suspenders. Talk about being color-coordinated. "Thank you for coming to my concert the other day."

"Hey, I'm there for you, babe," I said as I entered the front hall.

"Mom! Dad! Kristy's here!" Shea shouted up the stairs as I took off my coat and hung it on the coat rack.

A minute later, Mrs. Rodowsky appeared on the stairs, wearing a black sequined blouse with dark blue slacks. "Hi, Kristy," she said as she put on her wool-lined denim jacket. "We should be home by 9:00. The emergency numbers are in their usual place, and there's hot dogs in the fridge for their dinner. Well, see you later."

"'Bye," I said as Shea and his parents walked out the door.

"Want to see Jackie's art project?" I heard seven-year-old Archie's voice ask.

I turned and saw him standing in the doorway. "Sure," I said. Archie grabbed my hand, and led me downstairs to the rec room.

When we got there, ten-year-old Jackie was putting the finishing touches on his project. It was a little igloo village made of eggshells and cotton balls that were glued onto a piece of cardboard.

"Hi, Jackie," I said.

"Hi," he answered, very slowly backing away. "Well, what do you think?"

"Wow, that's really something," I commented.

"Thanks," he said. "It's for the display in the lobby at Stoneybrook Manor."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate it," I said. Then I changed the subject. "You guys hungry?"

"Yeah!" Jackie exclaimed as he stood up. To no one's surprise, he tripped over his shoelace. Luckily, I caught him before he sat down on the coffee table and crushed his masterpiece.

"Wow, that was a close one," Archie commented.

Jackie nodded. His eyes were as big as Ping-Pong balls.

"So, shall we have dinner now?" I asked.

The boys nodded, and followed me upstairs to the kitchen.

In a few minutes, the boys were sitting at the table as I took the hot dogs out of the microwave. We Thomases/Brewers are absolutely addicted to hot dogs, and we all like them differently. Nannie and I like mustard only, David Michael likes his with ketchup and onions, Charlie and Sam like chili, cheese, and onions, and Mom and Watson like theirs with relish, marinara sauce, and sauerkraut. Karen is the only one who isn't picky about condiments. In fact, sometimes she'll get hers with the works. Andrew and Emily, on the other hand, like theirs plain. And yes, I mean just a hot dog, a bun, and nothing else. Now, isn't that the most boring thing you ever heard of?

"Are you looking forward to Christmas?" Archie asked as I put his hot dog in front of him and poured him a glass of milk.

"Yeah. Charlie and Sam—you know, my older brothers—will be coming home tomorrow afternoon," I told them.

"That's great," Jackie said as he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk over. I shook my head as I reached for a dish towel and mopped it up.

"Uh, sorry about that," he said. "So, how do they like New York?"

"Oh, they love it there," I answered as I refilled his glass. "There you go."

"Thanks," Jackie answered. He never lets any snafus get to him, especially when he causes them. "Hey, didn't they get to go on the _Today _show over the summer?"

"Yup, over Labor Day weekend. And when they came home for Thanksgiving, they told us that Al Roker is shorter in person?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "Compared to them, he was. Charlie said it was probably because they were standing on the curb. Say, how did you know they were there?"

"We saw it," Jackie grinned. "I saw them in the crowd as the camera was passing by."

"Wow!" Archie exclaimed. "Did Mr. Roker talk to them?"

"No, they were standing on the opposite side from the interview area."

"I'm told that Al Roker came around and shook their hands, though," I said.

"Cool!" Jackie exclaimed.

After we finished dinner, Archie asked, "Have you noticed how much snow we've been getting?"

"Oh, yeah," I answered. (Call me crazy, but I'm just glad the Kool-Aid man didn't come crashing through the wall just then and echo that, or some creepy guy with a moustache and a feminine Southern accent didn't pass by saying, "Oh, _noooo.")_

"Do you think we'll have a white Christmas?"

"I hope so."

"My brothers and I had a race yesterday to see who could make it all the way across the yard and back," Jackie said.

"Whoa," I said as the boys finished their dinner and stacked up the dishes. "I'll bet that was fun, huh?"

"Yup," Archie said.

"Let's do it again!" Jackie exclaimed as he jumped up from the table. "Want to join us, Kristy?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "That snow looks pretty deep."

"Aw, come on, Kristy! It'll be okay! Besides, we always make sure there's nothing in the way before we go down the hill," Jackie said.

"I'd still rather the three of us be in one piece when your parents and brother get home," I said.

"Come on, Kristy, there's nothing in the yard!" Archie protested.

I looked outside the window. Sure enough, there was nothing in the way. "Well...all right, but I'll watch," I finally said after a moment.

"All right!" Jackie shouted, then ran to get their coats.

"But first, we should put our dishes in the dishwasher," I said. "I don't want your parents and brother to come home to a messy house."

Archie nodded, gathered up the dishes, and carried them to the dishwasher.

A few minutes later, we were outside in the backyard. I stood on the patio and watched as Jackie and Archie started at the far end of the yard. They stood with a baseball player stance and ran down the hill. Oh, how I miss the Krushers!

The next thing I knew, Jackie was shouting, "Hey, Kristy, watch this!" Archie was holding Jackie's ankles and moving him back up the hill like a wheelbarrow. Right away, I could tell that something was bound to spin out of control. I mean, this is the Walking Disaster here.

"Hey, you guys, take it easy, you hear?" I shouted anxiously. I was about to run out there and stop them when I heard Bo, their Dalmatian, scratching at the door. Obviously, he needed outside, but I couldn't leave the boys unattended. On the other hand, if I were their parents, I wouldn't want to come home to find a disgusting mess on the floor.

So, what do I do? Well, being the responsible person that everybody always told me I was, I very quickly opened the door to let Bo out. No sooner had Bo made his way outside did I hear one of the boys—I still don't know which one—scream, "KRISTY!"

I whipped around. I really wasn't surprised that Jackie had another accident, but even I wasn't expecting to see what I saw that day: Jackie was lying at the bottom of the hill, and his left forearm was bent at a 15-degree angle. Archie was kneeling beside him, just in hysterics, while Bo was sniffing and trying to lick his face.

"Jackie's hurt!" Archie was shrieking at the top of his lungs. I'm surprised he didn't make Bo start rolling around in the snow and howling up a storm, now that I think about it.

I ran out there and motioned for Archie to stand back. He grabbed Bo's collar and the two of them moved away. "Can you sit up?" I asked Jackie.

"Yeah, just don't touch my arm," he said weakly as he managed to sit up.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number the Rodowskys' had given me. When Mrs. Rodowsky answered, I told her what happened. I could tell by her tone of voice that she wasn't surprised. "Okay, Kristy," she said. "I want you and the boys to get to the emergency room immediately. We'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'm on it," I said, and we helped Jackie to the car.

Normally, I'm a very careful driver, but on the way to the hospital, I was so preoccupied with worrying about Jackie that I wasn't watching the speed limit. The next thing I heard was the sound of a police car siren. _Shit, _I thought in chagrin as I pulled over and stopped the car.

"Just be cool," I instructed the boys, while trying to do so myself.

A minute later, a cop appeared at my window. "License and registration please," she said.

Swallowing very hard, due to how dry my throat was, I handed them to her. "It all seems to be in order," she said. "Miss Thomas, do you know how fast you were going?"

I shook my head. "You were doing 61 in a 55 zone," she told me as she wrote out a ticket. And you should've seen the look on my face when I heard that.

"I was? Gee, I'm sorry," I said as she handed my papers back to me. "I had other things on my mind, like getting this kid..." I jerked my thumb in Jackie's direction "...to the hospital."

The cop looked to where I was pointing, and saw the look of pain on Jackie's face, as well as Archie huddled against the backseat, crying. "Do you need an escort?"

I shook my head. "That won't be necessary," I said, hiding how relieved I was that she wasn't going to chew me out for driving so fast in the first place. "It won't happen again, Officer."

"Good," she said as she tore the ticket off the pad and handed it to me. "Let's be a little more careful out there next time, okay?"

Perfect. Just what I needed. Could this day get any better?


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Jackie, Archie, and I had just taken chairs in the waiting room when Shea and his parents came in. "Kristy, we came as soon as we heard," Mrs. Rodowsky said. "What happened here?"

"Archie and I were playing human wheelbarrow in the backyard, and I fell and hurt my arm," Jackie panted. "I think it's broken." And believe me, if I could trade places with that poor kid, I'd do it in a nanosecond.

"Jackie Rodowsky?" the nurse called a minute later.

"I'll go back with him," Mrs. Rodowsky volunteered. I nodded glumly, and Jackie followed his mother back to the examining room.

"Kristy, if you'd like, you can go home," Mr. Rodowsky said, handing me the money.

"No, I want to stay," I told him. "After all, I was the one watching Jackie, and thanks to me, he hurt himself."

"Okay," Mr. Rodowsky said softly. For some reason, he didn't tell me that I was being way too hard on myself. I also think he knew how hard I was taking this, and the thought it'd be best if he kept quiet about it.

I sat on a chair between Shea and Archie, picked up a copy of _Sports Illustrated, _and tried to read it, but I was so worried about Jackie, I didn't get past the first page. I tossed the magazine back on the table, and put my arms around Archie to console him.

About an hour later, Jackie and his mother came back out into the waiting room. As I'd suspected, Jackie's left forearm was in a cast. When I saw that, my heart just sank.

"Mrs. Rodowsky, I am so sorry," I said. "I feel horrible."

"It wasn't your fault," Mrs. Rodowsky said reassuringly. "These things do happen. The doctor says that he should be out of the cast by New Year's, so he really can make a fresh start in the new year in more ways than one."

I was glad that Jackie was going to be all right, but at the same time, I still felt like I'd let them down. And I didn't even want to think about what would happen when word got around about this.

The next morning, I went to Bellair's to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. I still needed to buy gifts for Karen, Andrew, Emily, and David Michael. I found a personalized keychain for Karen, a Yankees baseball cap for Andrew, a pair of Blue's Clues barrettes for Emily, and a can of softballs for David Michael. I just knew they'd love them.

_"I'll have a blu-ue Christmas with-out you..." _the PA system sang. If I wasn't feeling so rotten about Jackie's arm, I would've joined right in.

"Oh, shut up," I muttered. I would've expected someone to make me feel worse than I already did, but the _PA system?_

Just as I was leaving the sports department, on my way to the checkout, I saw Cokie Mason and Grace Blume doing some shopping of their own. Hopefully, they were shopping for brains. I can only imagine how exhausting it must be for the two of them to have to share one.

Nearby, I could hear King humming the _People's Court _theme while Alan Gray was saying, "This is the defendant, Kristy Thomas..."

"All right, you guys, that's enough," I sharply cut them off.

"What did you do this time?" King teased.

"Like it's any of your business," I retorted.

"Hey, whoa, we're just asking," Alan said defensively. "We just heard the Rodowsky kid hurt himself, and we're just wondering if he's all right."

"What, you care?" I snapped. I didn't even know how they knew, nor did I even care.

That's when Cokie walked by. "Boy, somebody got up on the wrong side of the coffin," she commented.

That was all I needed to hear. Let me tell you, there's no love lost between her and the BSC, not by a long shot. I marched over to her, and we stood nose-to-nose. "Look, bitch," I growled. "I've had it up to here (my hand over my head) with your garbage, and so have a lot of other people. So, if I were you, I'd stop bothering people, put a bag over my head, and go live under a bridge."

I turned around and stomped away. I just wanted to get home and forget what happened at the Rodowskys'.

When I got home, I took a quick look downstairs to make sure that none of the kids were around. The coast was clear, so I hurried upstairs to my room and locked the door.

_Now I know exactly how Mom felt,_ I thought as I took my purchases out of the bag.

I wrapped the presents and hid them under the bed. The last thing I wanted was the kids snooping around under there, especially at this time of year.

After checking to make sure they were well-hidden, I unlocked my door and reached for my purse. I'd had twenty dollars to spare when I'd left the store, but when I recounted, I discovered that I had nineteen. _You have _got_ to be kidding me, _I thought. Hadn't I put up with enough?

Then I figured I'd dropped a dollar someplace. I looked all over my room, but had no results. Now, normally, I'm not so quick to suspect people, but the one thought that kept gnawing at me more than anything else was the possibility that Cokie had stolen it. I mean, who else would have?

If there's such a thing as George Bailey syndrome, I definitely had it.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: In case you're wondering, Kristy is the George Bailey of the story, and Cokie is the Mr. Potter.

**CHAPTER 6**

After I'd stuffed everything back into my purse and put it on my desk, I sat down on my bed to think. How did everything suddenly get so complicated? I mean, we've always expected some sort of disaster occurring at the Rodowskys', but this was the first time Jackie ever had to go to to the ER while one of us was watching him. His parents had told me numerous times that it wasn't my fault, and these sort of things just happen, but that didn't mean I didn't feel like crap.

"Kristy?" Mom's voice called from outside my door.

"Yeah, it's open," I answered.

She came in and sat down beside me. "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Rodowsky," she told me. "She told me what happened, and said you really feel horrible about what happened to Jackie."

It took everything I had not to throw something. Luckily, there was nothing breakable nearby. "I took my eyes off them long enough to let Bo out," I said through clenched teeth, my voice breaking. "How could I have let this happen?"

Mom put her arm across my shoulders. "It was an accident, sweetie," she said gently.

"Boy, I've never heard that one before," I said sarcastically. As much as I hate to admit it, if there's one thing we Thomases are known for, it's sarcasm.

"Kristy, honey, I know you're having a hard time, but you've got to believe me when I tell you that nobody blames you for this."

I raised my head and wiped the tears that were forming in my eyes. "No, but some people sure love having the opportunity to rub it in my face. Not only that, but that pompous slut Cokie Mason thought it was a good idea to steal a dollar from me."

I thought for sure that Mom would run to the bathroom and grab the first bar of soap she could find. Knowing her, it would've been Lifebuoy. But instead, she just shook her head. "Okay, Kristy, why don't you sit up here and think things over? I'm sure you'll feel better once you've had some time to calm down."

"Okay, Mom," I said softly. We gave each other a hug, and she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

As I laid back down on my bed, a million thoughts were going through my head, namely how nice everyone was to me about what had happened. When you really think about it, sitting for the Rodowskys could be totally unpredictable, and yes, kids do sometimes hurt themselves. That's the one thing we've always told ourselves to watch out for, and something like this could've happened while any of us were in charge over there.

But it didn't happen to anyone else. It happened to me. Either way you look at it, I was responsible. Jackie had hurt himself big-time, and it was my fault. Also, the one question that kept gnawing at me more than anything else was whether or not it would've made any difference if I'd never started the Baby-sitters Club.

I think it was nighttime when I sat up. That was because when I opened my eyes, I heard someone calling my name: "Kristy?"

I looked, and sitting at the foot of the bed was a young woman who looked about Charlie's age. She had reddish-brown hair pulled back into a bun and green eyes, and was wearing a white blouse, a long pink flower-print skirt, and black boots with buttons instead of laces. She looked like a fugitive from _Little House on the Prairie._

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. "Who the hell are you?" I asked.

"I'm Miriam, your guardian angel," she answered.

I thought for sure that someone was playing a joke on me. As if I hadn't been through enough already! "All right, who put you up to this? It was Alan Gray, right? That guy just doesn't know when to quit, does he?"

"No, it wasn't Alan. And you're right, he doesn't know when to quit."

"The next time I see Cokie, she is so going to need dentures," I growled, clenching my fists. I can't begin to tell you how sick I was sick of peoples' bullshit.

"Whoa, slow down there, tiger!" Miriam exclaimed. "I still remember when you and your friends got back at that little bimbo at Old Hickory's grave."

"A, who are you really? And B, how do you know that?"

"I told you, I'm your guardian angel. I've been watching over you since the day you were born. I'll bet it would've been cool to have been born in Yankee Stadium, huh?"

"Actually, yeah," I admitted, cheering up a little, but it didn't last long. Immediately, I went back into third-degree mode. "So, you're my guardian angel, huh? Where were you when my dad ditched us?"

"I was making sure your mom and Watson found each other."

I thought about that for a moment. "Fair enough," I decided. "I guess you knew what you were doing then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess I did. So, I understand that you're having a hard time with things?"

"You don't know the half of it," I snorted. "I turn my back for two seconds, and one of the kids I'm sitting for breaks his arm."

"Those things happen, Kristy."

"Don't get me wrong. I love my baby-sitting club, but sometimes, I feel like things are spinning out of control," I confessed. I could also feel the tears coming back. "And after what happened today, I'm beginning to wonder if everyone would've been better off if I'd never put it together in the first place."

"Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little?"

"No, I don't, as a matter of fact," I retorted. "If you screwed up a baby-sitting job, got a speeding ticket, and caught a bunch of shit at the mall from people you couldn't stand, not to mention having everyone looking at you like you were Kristy the Incompetent, how would you feel?"

"Okay, Kristy, all right. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to show you what Stoneybrook would be like if you'd never started the Baby-sitters Club."

"You're kidding, right?" I asked. I thought I was really losing my mind.

Miriam looked at me, and it was a look that told me that if I wanted to feel any better, I'd better go along with it. "Would it help any if I told you that what you're about to see is just hypothetical, and not necessarily what would happen?"

That did it. I was stuck, and she obviously wasn't going to back down unless I went along with it. "Whatever, as long as it'll help you get your wings," I sighed. I just wanted to get this over with. "Oh, by the way, I don't mean to offend you, but do you think it'd be possible for you to change into something warmer and more...modern?"

"Say no more," Miriam said as she stood up. "This is what I was wearing when I was killed in a wagon accident in 1874. My boyfriend and I were rolling around in the hay during a hayride, and the next thing I knew, I was being dragged under the wagon. I see your point, though." Surprisingly, she wasn't the least bit offended.

She snapped her fingers, and in a bright flash of light, her outfit instantly changed into a white long-sleeved blouse and ankle-length denim skirt, brown boots, and a New York Jets parka, and her hair was now in a French-braid. Now, I will give Miriam credit. Her outfit did look more current, but I kind of wished her parka represented another team. You see, Jason's stepdad Steve and I have very different opinions when it comes to teams. He likes the Islanders, the Jets, the Knicks, and the Yankees; I like the Bruins, the Patriots, the Celtics, and the Mets. The only team we can agree on is Notre Dame. So as you can probably guess, we usually butt heads while we're watching a game on TV. But I knew Miriam was here to help, so I kept quiet about it.

"Okay," she said, holding out her hand. "Here we go." I took her hand, and the next thing I knew, we were surrounded by a bunch of flashing lights and colors, not to mention a wild wind blowing our hair around. It was like standing in the eye of a Life-Saver hurricane. And you know what? For the first time in my life, I actually wished I was Claudia.

"Just another day at the office for me," Miriam informed me, somehow being able to make herself heard above the wind.

_Oh, yippee, _I thought. _This ought to be good._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: What you'll read in these next few chapters may either shock you, or make you laugh your head off.

**CHAPTER 7**

The next thing I knew, the colors and lights had stopped, and much to my surprise, we were standing in the living room of my old house on Bradford Court. It looked exactly the same as I remembered it, only it was empty and practically overrun with dust bunnies. "Wait a minute, I thought the Perkins' lived here," I said, puzzled. I looked out the window, and saw that several houses on that block had been boarded up.

"Well, they never moved here," Miriam answered.

I was about to turn away from the window when Mary Anne's old house caught my eye. "What is this?" I asked, noticing the bars on the windows.

"Well, since you never started the Baby-sitters Club, Mary Anne found a new friend in Dawn, and they still reunited their parents."

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, in a way," Miriam answered.

I didn't like how Miriam said that. Not one bit. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I think you should come see this."

We climbed through a gaping hole in the wall, and found ourselves outside. When I looked up and down the street, I noticed that almost all the houses on that block were boarded up or abandoned, there was garbage everywhere, and a few overturned cars, some of which had been burned to a crisp. On the sidewalk, right next to a bent yield sign, was the chalk outline of two bodies. "What the hell...?" I murmured.

"I knew you weren't going to like this," Miriam said, shaking her head.

"Where's Mary Anne?" I demanded. "Where's Claudia? What's the deal here?"

Miriam led me across the street to the Kishis' house. Like the others, it was boarded up, covered with graffiti, and also had huge patches of mold and mildew all over the cracked, crumbling, and warped siding. I used to like to make jokes about how disgusting the SMS cafeteria food was, but this one really took the cake.

"Claudia ran away to New York," Miriam explained. "She got so tired of her parents always comparing her to Janine, so one night after a big blow-up, Claudia packed her bags, snuck out in the middle of the night, and hopped the first train to New York to be with Stacey. Soon after that, her family moved to Stamford, and they haven't spoken since."

"You've got to be kidding."

Miriam shook her head. "I wish she was," she answered.

"You said she moved to New York?"

Miriam nodded. "Makes sense, doesn't it, with her being an artist and all?"

Whoa. I always knew that Claud's relationship with her parents had its rough spots, but this was something that even I never could've expected. If this was Stoneybrook without the BSC, I hated to think about what would've become of my friends.

Miriam and I started walking through town. I saw more abandoned, falling-apart houses, garbage, and stray animals everywhere. I'm surprised those animals weren't hungry enough to want to eat us for dinner. And I was willing to bet my college tuition that they were carrying every disease in the book.

"Hey, this can't be Rosedale Road," I said incredulously. "I don't remember the Marshalls' house looking like that." The Marshalls' house looked like a bunker right out of those World War II movies we watched in History class. Not only were there bars on the windows, but instead of their white picket fence with the pink and gold trim, I saw barbed wire and sandbags.

"Well, that's because Nina was almost kidnapped a few months ago, and the Marshalls don't trust anybody anymore," Miriam answered.

"Boy, I'll say they don't!" I commented.

Without warning, a figure dressed all in black popped up from behind one of the sandbags and pointed a shotgun at us. "Freeze!" he shouted.

My heart almost jumped into my throat, and my knees were shaking so much it took everything I had not to fall on my ass. Miriam must have sensed how I was feeling, because she put a hand on my shoulder.

"M-Mr. Marshall!" I stammered. "It's me! It's Kristy!"

"Who?"

"Kristy! Kristy Thomas! Remember, I baby-sat the girls last week?"

"Last week? We haven't had a sitter in six months, thanks to that bastard who tried to grab my Nina!"

"I think it'd be best if we got out of here before he starts getting trigger-happy," Miriam said, grabbing my arm and ushering me away from the house.

"Where's Mary Anne?" I asked, once we were a safe distance away.

"Uh, say, why don't we go see that Christmas tree lighting in the town square?" Miriam suggested. Right away, I could tell that she was hiding something.

"You take me to see Mary Anne _right now," _I ordered. I felt like I was talking to one of my siblings, for crying out loud.

Miriam clearly got the message, because the next thing I knew, we were standing in the 4200 block of Rosedale Road. I knew this right away, because one of the houses, 4221, was one that Stacey and her mom had looked at. It was still there, and it was this absolute health hazard: the roof was all but gone, the windows were smashed, the foundation was rotted through, and the door was barely hanging on by its rust-coated bottom hinge. If that house could talk, it would've been begging to be burned to the ground.

"_This _is Mary Anne's house?" I asked in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, yes. She's all by herself here," Miriam said grimly. "Ever since the old farmhouse burned to the ground, and Dawn moved back to California for good, she's just completely fallen apart, like this house."

"Oh, no, don't tell me she's started wearing her hair in braids again."

That's when Mary Anne came out of her house. No, her hair wasn't in braids, but it looked like it hadn't been washed in months, had split ends, and was falling out. She was wearing a hot pink halter top covered in stains, a black leather miniskirt, yellow Doc Martens with ladybug laces, and a dark blue overcoat that looked even sicker and more worn-out than she did. If her father could've seen her dressed like that, he'd have a major coronary. "Damn, isn't she freezing?" I asked.

"Well, if you were a full-blown junkie, you'd be pretty oblivious to the cold, too," Miriam answered.

"Hey, Mary Anne!" I called.

She looked around. "Yeah, what do you want?" she asked, sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Mary Anne, don't you know me? I'm Kristy," I said.

Mary Anne narrowed her eyes, and her lips curled in disgust. "Oh, yeah, now it's _allll _coming back to me," she said coldly through clenched teeth. "All those years of bossing me around, thinking you knew everything, and don't even get me started on how you never bothered throwing me a bone when my house burned down, Dawn moved back to California, and Dad and Sharon decided to move to Philadelphia without asking me how I felt about it. Yeah, some friend you turned out to be!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked in disbelief. "We let you stay with us until you could find a temporary house while they were renovating the barn."

"The hell you did!" she screamed. I couldn't help gasping, because this was the first time I'd ever heard Mary Anne swear. She doesn't even like to hear any of us talk like that, and I've long since lost count of how many times she's told us not to. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to try to get my fix now. And don't try to stop me, either, or so help me God, I'll knock you clear into the next county." And with that, she shoved me aside and left, swaying uneasily all the while.

This was definitely not the Mary Anne I knew. Without the BSC, was this how she would've turned out?

What a horrible thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Before I knew it, we were in another part of town. Something about it looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "Do you know this place?" Miriam asked.

"Should I?" I asked. I saw a few houses, as well as an apartment building a good distance away, and at least a couple more houses that looked like they'd been bulldozed to the ground.

"This is Watson's neighborhood," Miriam told me.

"That can't be," I gasped. I couldn't believe what had became of the place. "Why would anyone want to do this?"

"Well, this is how it would look if you'd never started the Baby-sitters Club," Miriam answered.

Just then, I saw two small figures running down the street toward us. I thought for sure they'd either mug us, beat us up, or pick our pockets. When I got a better look, I realized that they were, of all people, Linny and Hannie Papadakis. "Linny? Hannie?" I called.

They stopped and turned around. "Kristy?" Hannie exclaimed. "God, what are you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?"

"Really?" Linny asked. "I thought you moved back to Bradford Court."

"I've seen Bradford Court, and it doesn't look very friendly."

"Well, neither does this place, but it's a hell of a lot safer here," Hannie pointed out.

"What happened to those houses?" I asked, pointing in the direction of Watson's and Mrs. Porter's houses.

"Mrs. Porter moved to Ohio about six months ago, and some bloodsucking land developers are building a shopping mall we don't really need all the way out here," Linny growled, turning his head to the side and spitting on the ground. "But they're not going to tear _our _house down!"

After saying that, he snatched up a nearby lead pipe, handed it to Hannie, and put on a set of brass knuckles. I was really shocked, because these were definitely not the sweet, down-to-earth kids I remembered.

"Have you seen Karen and Andrew?" I asked, trying to hide my alarm, but to no avail.

"Not since they moved to Nebraska with their mom and stepdad last summer," Hannie answered, fighting the tears that were coming. "Listen, you'd better get out of here."

"What? Why?"

Hannie pointed behind me. I turned around to see a Mercedes parking beside the curb. Three guys in business suits got out of the car, and they didn't look very friendly. Linny obviously sensed their presence, because he pushed his way past me and stalked toward them, with Hannie close behind, and she was clutching that lead pipe like a Louisville slugger.

I don't mean to get off the subject here, but did I mention how much I missed the Krushers?

"I think we'd better take Hannie's advice, and leave," Miriam said, grabbing my elbow.

All this because I never started the Baby-sitters Club!

As we walked down the street, Miriam suggested, "What do you say we see how the Everetts are getting along, shall we?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll bet they're just peachy," I said sarcastically. "The whole town looks like a war zone, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, this is how it would look without the Baby-sitters Club," Miriam told me.

"Oh, come on!" I exclaimed. "Do you really expect me to believe that parents would just let their kids run that wild if I'd never started the club?"

"Well, you never know."

"Look, let's just see how the Everetts' life is shot to hell, and move on, okay?"

That's when we found ourselves outside the apartment complex, and if you can believe this, not only was it still standing, but it still looked as new as it did when it was first built. "Well, I'll be damned," I marveled. "I thought for sure they'd be all gone, too."

Just then, I saw Steve, Diann, and Bebe coming out of their apartment. They all looked pretty downcast. I didn't think anything of it at first, nor could I blame them for feeling that way. I know I would have, if I were them. "Boy, I'll just bet they're loving what's happened to the town, too, huh?" I commented.

"That's not the only reason why they're upset," Miriam said. "You see, without the BSC, Jason was never able to control his anger, and now, he's in a juvenile facility in Hartford for almost beating a man to death."

If my jaw had dropped any lower, it would've hit China. "I don't believe it," I murmured in shock. "I mean, Jason's always had a bit of a temper, but he'd never do something like this."

"And I'll bet it never occurred to you that your club is one of the things that kept him out of trouble. Is that it?" Miriam challenged me.

"Okay. You're right. I never should've said what I said about never starting the BSC. I get it. Can we go home now?"

"Not yet. There's more to see."

Oh, great. Just what I wanted to hear. "Well, that's nice to know," I roughly barged on, "but if it's all right with you, I don't want to see any more, so I'm leaving. Say hi to Mimi for me, and I hope you get your wings. Good-bye." And with that, I turned on my heel and started up the street. I just wanted to get things back to normal.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

As soon as I'd made sure Miriam was gone, I ran up McLelland Road, toward town. To be honest with you, I'd had more than enough of this crap. I just wanted everything back the way it was.

I was cold and thirsty, and hot chocolate sounded like a good idea. I didn't even care what sort of nasty surprise I would find. That's how cold I was.

After a few minutes of walking and shivering, I found myself outside the coffee house, which was just down the street from Stoneybrook University. It wasn't as clean as I'd remembered it, but at least it was still standing. The real surprise came when I found Abby standing behind the counter, reading a copy of _Rolling Stone. _"Yeah, what'll you have?" she asked, without even looking up to see who it was.

"Just a hot chocolate," I answered, seating myself at one of the high stools at the counter.

Sighing, Abby put down the magazine and went to the kitchen to yell out the order. "Hey, Joe, I need a hot chocolate!" Then she turned and saw me. "Say, don't I know you?"

"Abby, it's Kristy, remember?"

"Kristy who?"

"Kristy Thomas, from school. Remember?"

Abby studied me for a moment. "I've never seen you before in my life, but you look like a sports buff to me," she answered.

"Yeah, that's right," I said. "How did you know?"

"That's the only kind of people we get in this slop house anymore."

"Seriously, though, I am a sports buff. Remember when we had that basketball game in gym class before Thanksgiving break?"

"Uh, actually, the school burned down six years ago."

I sighed and held my head, because I knew what was coming next. "All right, how many minutes do I have to get out of here before you blow my head off?"

Abby looked at me in surprise. "I'm not blowing anybody's head off, are you?"

"Abby, you have _no _idea what I've been through," I groaned. "One minute, I'm in my room, stewing over how I'd let a kid I was watching break his arm, and the next thing I knew, this crazy woman who claims to be my guardian angel shows up and starts giving me all this psychobabble about how people need the Baby-sitters Club, and—well, I'll let you figure it out."

"It kind of reminds me of a movie they show on TV around this time of year."

"Really? What?"

_"It's A Wonderful Life. _Ever see it?"

"Who hasn't?"

"So, this woman says that she's your guardian angel, huh?" Abby said as she served my hot chocolate.

I nodded and took a sip of my drink. "After my dad died, I had a similar experience with this old guy who looked like a cross between Mr. Magoo and Eric Stoltz's character from _Mask," _Abby continued. "Now that I think about it, I should've listened to him, and not blown him off, but I didn't, and here I am. I ran away from Long Island when I was thirteen, found a job right here in Stoneybrook, and I've been here ever since."

I put my cup down and looked suspiciously at Abby. "So, you're staying I should listen to her?" I suggested.

"I would."

"Okay, sure, why not?" With all that's happened to me, I might as well try to make things right.

After I paid for my drink and left the coffee house, I saw Sam coming out of one of the frat houses. He was dressed in a chicken suit and stumbling all over the place. Right away, I could tell that he'd had too much to drink. And I could probably smell him from two blocks away. He _stunk!_

After Sam picked himself off the curb, he turned and noticed me standing there. "Hey, Kristy! How's it going, Sis?" he slurred happily. I couldn't understand how someone as wasted as he was could've ever recognized me.

"Sam!" I cried in disbelief. "Sam, my God! What happened to you? What happened to the town? What the hell's going on here?"

"Gee, I don't know. What did happen to the town?"

"Sam, come on!"

"Where are we going?"

"Sam, I'm serious! I want to show you what's become of Stoneybrook!" I draped his arm across my shoulders, and we walked down the street.

_"Oooh, _somebody's in a bad mood," he said, trying to maintain his balance.

"Sam, look! It didn't look like this yesterday!"

I should've expected Sam to say something really stupid, because, well, that's what he's known for. "Well, neither did your room, but you sure turned out all right," he snickered.

"Where's Mom and Watson?" I asked, changing the subject. Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask, because in one second flat, Sam yanked himself free from my grasp, and glared at me. I hadn't seen him that pissed since the time I'd spilled my orange juice on his Sammy Sosa T-shirt.

"What do you mean, where's Watson?" he demanded, his horrible-smelling breath getting me right in the face. "And since when are you and Mom on speaking terms again?"

"Look, I just want to know where Mom is," I said.

"The same place as always, I guess," he answered angrily. "Downtown." And with that, he collapsed into a peaceful sleep, landing headfirst into a fallen stop sign.

_Right. Downtown, _I thought. _Can't wait to see this._


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

When I got to the center of town, I couldn't believe my eyes. A riot was in progress. There were broken windows and burning buildings, and people were looting the stores, grabbing clothes, stereos, jewelry, and whatever else they could get their hands on. I even saw Alan Gray running down the street, and also dropping almost everything he'd swiped.

"We're slashing prices! Everything must go!" he was shouting. And then, he ran headfirst into a nearby lamppost. After he collapsed to the ground, a bunch of muscleheads ran up and grabbed everything he'd had in his pockets, then took off. I'll admit, seeing that was more than a little amusing.

_That's what you get for your little terrorist act at the airport, dumbass, _I thought. I couldn't really think about that now, because my first order of business was to find Mom.

I had just started down the street when I heard a voice calling, "Kristy! Hey, Kristy!"

I turned around and saw Miriam running toward me. "Miriam? I said. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

"I thought you might be," she answered. "What's happened so far?"

"Well, I saw Abby working at the coffee house on the college campus, then my brother falling down drunk, and now this," I answered.

Just then, I heard a huge crash behind me. I spun around and saw that the Pike boys had thrown a mailbox through a store window, and Margo and Claire were jumping into the store and grabbing everything in sight, sometimes handing things through the window to their brothers. I was really shocked, because never in my wildest dreams could I imagine the Pike kids being capable of such a heinous crime.

"Let's get out of here and find my mom," I told Miriam.

I just wondered what kind of shape Mom was in, and maybe I could also find out what happened to Watson.

We had just turned the corner when I was in for another shock. Charlotte Johanssen and Becca Ramsey were running out of one of the stores, each carrying a shopping bag. At first, I'd assumed that they'd just finished shopping, but when they ran by me, I saw pearls flopping against their chests and trickling out of their shirts. That's when I started to get suspicious.

I decided to follow the girls, so off we went. Maybe we could find Mom while we were at it.

"I really don't think you're going to like what you're about to see," Miriam warned.

"Hey, you know what?" I said as I spun around got right in her face. "I haven't liked one single thing I've seen here! Why don't you go make some prank calls to Dionne Warwick and leave me alone?!"

"Well, I would," Miriam said, "but she told me if I made one more wisecrack about how big her nostrils are, she'd murder me in my sleep."

That did it. I let out a scream of fury, sounding exactly like Lily Finnerty from _Grounded For Life. _Apparently, it worked, because the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of Hurley's Garage, and Miriam was nowhere in sight. I don't know why, but I found myself remembering the time Dawn accidentally dialed that number when she was trying to reach Mrs. Barrett when one of her kids got sick. "Well, now what?" I muttered.

Right on cue, the door opened, and Charlotte and Becca came sauntering out. "Girl, I never seen anyone with hands that fast," Becca laughed as the two of them high-fived.

"Thanks, Becca," Charlotte grinned. "That's what you get for not nailing anything down!"

I felt like the sky had just fallen on me. Never in a million years would I have imagined Charlotte Johanssen—a doctor's daughter, and the shyest, sweetest girl I know—doing such an about-face. I could only imagine how heartbroken her parents must be.

Charlotte and Becca had just run off when I saw Mom step outside with a trash bag and make her way over to one of the dumpsters. "Mom!" I called, thinking she wouldn't know me.

She looked up. The first thing I noticed was how tired and haggard she looked. She had dark circles under her eyes and she was wearing a faded NYU sweatshirt that looked about two sizes too big. She also had on bleach-stained jeans and paint-splattered high-tops. I waited, figuring she'd throw something at me and start cursing, but instead, she had the warmest smile on her face.

"Kristy! I'm so glad to see you!" Mom exclaimed, running up and wrapping me in a hug.

"Mom, that can't be you," I gasped.

"Of course, it's me, honey. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, considering."

"I just put some soup on. Would you like to come up for some?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" I answered as we headed toward the house. At least my mom was the same way I remembered her.

Well, sort of.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

I followed Mom up the steps to her apartment. She opened the door, and we stepped inside. "Make yourself at home," she said.

I decided to take a tour of the place, because I was anxious to see how my mom lived. When I followed her to the kitchen, I found a table with five chairs around it, just like there had been when we'd lived on Bradford Court—once David Michael outgrew the high chair, that is. The only difference was, instead of a stove and refrigerator, there was a hot plate on the counter and an ice chest on the floor against the opposite wall.

In the living room, which was attached to the kitchen and separated by a counter, I found a loveseat jammed up against one wall, a recliner in front of the counter, and a four-foot Christmas tree next to the window. It was pretty tacky, and had only one pathetic string of white Christmas lights on it, three of which were burned out. I also saw a beat-up 12-inch TV bolted to the opposite wall. The TV's left antennae was bent, and the bottom right was covered with duct tape. I knelt beside the Christmas tree to examine the presents. I saw presents for me, my brothers, and Nannie, but none for Watson, Karen, Andrew, or Emily. I decided to ask Mom about it later.

I walked down the hall and peeked into one of the bedrooms. I saw a full-size bed against one wall, and a laptop leaning against the other. It had to be Mom's room.

Across the hall from Mom's room, I found a bathroom. There was a sea-green rug on the floor, and the same color covers on and around the toilet. I slipped into the bathroom to use it, and when I was done, I found myself washing my hands in a dark green sink; then I turned around and studied the tub. It was also dark green with a brown ring forming in it, and the shower head had a bit of limescale build-up around the edges. The shower curtain, which was _just starting _to mildew, was white and had little red and green polka dots on it.

When I came out of the bathroom, I continued my tour. In another room, I saw a set-up that reminded me of the boys' room on _The Brady Bunch. _There was a single bed against one wall and a set of bunk beds against the other. I assumed my brothers slept in that room.

In the very back of the apartment, I found, what I assumed, was my room. To my surprise, it looked exactly like my old room from when we'd lived on Bradford Court. Talk about a real blast from the past!

When I came back into the kitchen, Mom was ladling the soup into bowls for us. And believe me, after what I'd just been through, I was famished. I didn't even care if she'd made bean soup, which is my least favorite. No matter how much salt, pepper, or ham it has in it, it always tastes so bland. Thankfully, it was chicken and cheese.

"Mom, you're not going to believe what I've just been through," I said as she put the bowl of soup in front of me. "Mary Anne's a junkie, Jason's in juvie, the town looks like a war zone, Sam can't hold his liquor, and well, I don't know where Charlie is."

"Well, since no one was available to baby-sit for anyone else, things just went downhill," Mom said, shaking her head and handing me a glass of milk. "And as for Charlie, he went to Texas with Aunt Theo and Uncle Neal and their family."

"All this because I never started the Baby-sitters Club?"

"Huh?"

"The Baby-sitters Club! Remember, I started it because you couldn't find a sitter for David Michael? Stacey, Claudia, Mary Anne, and I all pitched in and everybody loved us. Is any of this ringing any bells here?"

At that moment, David Michael came in, carrying a stereo. I did a double-take. He was wearing a black Public Enemy sweatshirt, baggy jeans, tan work boots, a faded black parka, and a chunky gold necklace around his neck, as well as two earrings in each ear, a bandana tied around his shaved head, and had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked like a gang-banger.

"Hi, Mom," he said breathlessly. "This was all I could find. I lost the cops going through the storm drain. You know, people say the less donuts you eat, the faster you can run."

If I was Mom, I would've given him a piece of my mind, not just for stealing the stereo, but also for acting like it was a game. But much to my shock, she laughed.

"Good boy," she said. "Just put it in the utility room."

I couldn't believe my ears. Mom was actually condoning this. "Mom," I managed to say after David Michael had left. "Mom, what the hell are you doing? You're actually praising him!"

"Kristy, please spare me another lecture on what a mess our family is," Mom groaned, getting up from the table and putting her bowl in the sink.

"You can't be serious! How can you let him get d away with this? How can any of this be happening? And another thing: what happened to Watson? I can't find him anywhere!"

Mom turned to face me with a thoroughly puzzled look on her face. "Watson? Kristy, are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"NO! No, I'm not okay!" I shouted, jumping up from the table. "I don't understand what's happening here, and why the hell no one can give me a simple, straight answer."

"You know, I've kind of wondered the same thing myself, Kristy."

By then, I was so far beyond trying to stay calm, I thought I was going to explode. I put my dishes in the sink, then grabbed Mom's hand in both of mine, and looked her in the eye. "Mom," I panted, "I just want to know one thing. Where is he? Where's Watson Brewer?"

Mom looked at me in surprise. It was almost as if she couldn't believe that I didn't even know, when the thing is, I seriously didn't. "Why, Kristy," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "He's in the same place he's always been for the past four years...Stoneybrook Cemetery."


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

As soon as those words came out of Mom's mouth, I just stared at her. Before I knew what was happening, I turned on my heel and ran out the door.

As I ran to the cemetery, a million thoughts went through my head. If I had not made my wish, the town would not be so messed up.

The first person I thought of was Mary Anne. Normally, she hates swearing. In fact, she kind of reminds me of a librarian, but from what I just saw, she could make even the most foul-mouthed biker cringe.

Next, I thought of Jason. Knowing him as well as I do, he would never go as far as trying to kill someone. In fact, the worst I've seen him do is when he almost beat up this one guy named T-Jam on his first day at SMS.

I also couldn't believe that I'd witnessed several of our baby-sitting charges, namely Charlotte, Becca, and David Michael, performing such violent crimes. They're usually such good kids.

The last people I thought of were Claud, Stacey, and Jessi. I remembered Miriam saying something about Stacey moving back to New York, and Claud running away from home after a big falling-out with her parents. I also couldn't help wondering about Jessi. I'd seen Becca, but not Jessi, and then it hit me.

That's when I remembered an old song called "Annie Doesn't Live Here Anymore". (Nannie has the record of it, and I've listened to it at least once.) My guess was, Jessi had joined Dance New York, a dance troupe. She'd had the opportunity to join them once before—and it's headed up by none other than David Brailsford—but she declined. She wanted to stay here and finish school. As for Stacey, she and her mom probably found an apartment in New York after her parents' divorce, and Claud was probably living with them. That had to be it.

A police car siren interrupted my thoughts. Feeling curious, I went to see what was going on, and there was Mrs. Felder standing beside the car, holding four-year-old Hope. Susan, their autistic twelve-year-old daughter, was standing beside her, flapping her free hand and clicking her tongue, like she usually did. And you know what? I don't think I'd seen Mrs. Felder look that sad since the day she and her husband took Susan to that school in Stamford so she could get the help she needed.

"Some kid started making fun of Susan, and Mr. Felder attacked him with a lead pipe," Mrs. Felder answered sadly as we watched Mr. Felder being handcuffed and put in the back of the police car, then they drove off.

"Wow, that's unbelievable," I whispered. I knew it wasn't nice to call mentally disabled people names, because as Jason once said, if there's one thing that still exists, it's prejudice. There are even agencies to help such people. I also knew that Mr. Felder was just trying to protect his daughter, but I never imagined him going that far.

"Well, I should be going," I said at last. "Nice seeing you."

"Thanks, Kristy," Mrs. Felder said, managing a tiny smile.

I watched as Mrs. Felder and the girls got in their car and drove off before I went on my way.

A few minutes later, I found myself standing outside the cemetery. As I approached the gate, I took a deep breath, let it out, and pushed the gate open. The squeaking and grinding hurt my ears, but frankly, I couldn't have cared less.

I just wanted to get this over with.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Yes, I'm battling personal demons, not to mention living out some of my fantasies, in the previous chapter.

**CHAPTER 13**

I ran into the cemetery, and listened to the gate clang shut behind me. I leaned against the snow-covered brick wall. I was so breathless that I had to take a minute before I started searching for Watson's grave.

As I walked, I started looking at the grave markers, and hoping against hope that what Mom had said wasn't true. I mean, it just couldn't be possible. But with everything I'd seen until now, I was prepared for anything. It was already dark, so it was a little hard to tell the gravestones apart. And the snow didn't help matters, either.

And then, just when I'd passed by the old sycamore tree, I saw a grave with two stone doves carved on top of it. I wondered if that was it. Right there, in the middle of the stone, in big letters was the inscription:

**IN LOVING MEMORY**

** Watson Silas Brewer**

** August 19, 1963-December 24, 2007**

My knees buckled. My eyes filled with tears, and I felt a sharp pain shoot across my chest and down my right arm. I'd never seen something so horrifying in my life.

When I could finally move, I walked over to the stone, laid my flashlight on the ground, and knelt in front of it. "No," I whispered in horror. "No...This can't be happening! OH, PLEASE, GOD, NO!"

I'm not a big crier, but after seeing Watson's grave, I shoved the wreath aside, threw myself onto the stone, and started bawling hysterically. I just couldn't conceive of the possibility of something like the BSC never forming resulting in such mayhem and heartbreak, and I sure as hell never imagined my family and friends turning out the way they did. I didn't want to believe it, but these things were there, every single one of them. And all because of my poor-me attitude toward one of my charges hurting himself.

I looked up at the sky and continued, "God, please, take me back! I'm sorry for what I said about the Baby-sitters Club! I take it all back! I don't care what happens to me anymore! Just get me back to the way things were, and I promise I'll never say things like that again! Help me, Miriam! I just want my family and friends back the way they were! I want my club back! Please, God, just let me have it back!"

That's the last thing I remember before passing out.

"Please, God, I take it all back," I was mumbling. I opened my eyes and sat up to look at my surroundings. I was in my room, and there were my dresser, desk, and TV in their usual places. I couldn't believe it.

"Oh, God, what a nightmare," I said to myself as I stood up.

The next thing I heard was someone calling my name: "Kristy!"

_I know that voice! _I thought. _Sam!_

"Coming!" I called as I put on my shoes and ran downstairs.

Sure enough, when I reached the landing, there he was. I couldn't believe how normal he looked. I screamed ecstatically and threw my arms around him, almost knocking him over in the process.

"Damn, you sure sobered up fast!" I commented as I let go of him.

Sam gave me a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Sam, you have _no_ idea what I've been through," I told him. "It all started when Jackie Rodowsky broke his arm yesterday. I thought for sure that starting the BSC was a mistake, but when I got home, nothing was the way I remembered it."

"I take it I was drunk off my ass in your dream, right?" Sam guessed. I nodded, and he started laughing. As for how long it took him to stop, I really don't know.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Just the thought of me being drunk," he managed to gasp out. "You know I can't stand the smell of beer. Remember when I told you about Charlie taking me to the Mets game last summer for my graduation present? It was last summer while you were at camp. We bumped into this guy in the parking lot."

"Oh, yeah!" I laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't lose your lunch before he did!"

"Are you referring to me telling you how bad he stunk, or the fact that we were at Fenway Park?" Sam asked, and we just exploded with laughter.

"How was that game?" I asked.

"In case you're wondering, the Mets were playing the Red Sox, and we kicked their asses."

"Good," I said. In case you're wondering, we Thomases are not Red Sox fans.

After we'd calmed down, Sam looked at his watch and said, "Well, it's almost time for the party, so we'd better get going.

I stared at him blankly. "What party?" I asked. I didn't remember there being a party at our house.

"Our Christmas party. All your friends are coming. Remember?"

I thought about it for a minute, then it registered with me. "Oh, _that _party," I remembered. "Yeah. You started planning it when Charlie and I were home for Thanksgiving. If you'd like, I can tell you what you said, how you said it, and what you sounded like."

Leave it to Sam to say something like that. "Don't you dare," I threatened him, but at the same time, I couldn't help laughing.

As Sam and I headed toward the living room, I had a feeling that everything was going to be all right now.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Sam and I came into the front hall just as the doorbell rang. When I went to answer it, there stood Jason, Bebe, Abby, Anna, and Shannon. "Hi," I said. "Come on in."

As my guests entered the house, I gave each of them a hug. I was so glad to see them, after what I'd just been through.

"What's this for?" Jason asked when I hugged him. I just smiled, because I didn't want to say anything until after they'd all arrived.

Sam led my guests into the living room as the doorbell rang again. When I opened the door again, I saw Mal, Jessi, Becca, Charlotte, Vanessa, and Haley. I waved to their parents' cars as they pulled away from the curb.

The next people to arrive were Mary Anne, Dawn, and Logan. I gave Dawn an extra-tight hug, especially since I hadn't seen her since last summer.

The last ones to arrive were Claudia and Stacey. After I hugged them, I ushered them into the living room.

"So, what's up?" Bebe asked as Claud, Stacey, and I settled ourselves on the floor.

"You guys are not going to believe this, but I just had the_ worst_ nightmare," I began. "I dreamed that my guardian angel came and showed me what Stoneybrook would be like if I'd never formed the Baby-sitters Club, and believe me, it wasn't a pretty sight."

"Really?" Mary Anne asked. "Tell us more."

"Well, aren't you interested in knowing what started it?"

"Yes, of course," Shannon said. Anna nodded.

"Well, it all started last night at the Rodowskys'," I said. "Jackie and Archie were playing human wheelbarrow in the backyard. I turned my back just long enough to let Bo out, and the next thing I knew, Jackie had hurt himself."

"Oh, no," Jessi moaned. "Is he all right?"

"He broke his left forearm, I'm afraid," I answered.

"It wasn't your fault, Kristy," Claud said. "Even the most responsible baby-sitter can't prevent accidents."

"You should talk, Claud!" Mal exclaimed. "Remember when we had that baby-sitting job at the Perkins' so you could observe me in action, and I was a total klutz? You blamed everything on me!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Claud said.

"Go on, Kristy," Jason said. That's when Emily and David Michael wandered in. David Michael took an empty seat next to Mary Anne, and Emily settled herself in Charlotte's lap.

"Hi, you guys," I said to my little siblings. "Did you want to hear the story, too?"

"Sure," Emily said.

"Yeah, go on," David Michael added.

"Aaanywaaay..." we all said together, then erupted into giggles.

When we'd calmed down, I continued, "Everyone kept telling me that what happened to Jackie wasn't my fault, but I still felt horrible. In fact, this morning, when I went to do some last-minute Christmas shopping, I ran into Cokie, Alan, and King, and they started giving me hell about it. When I got home, I counted the money I had left, and discovered I was missing a dollar. Well, call me presumptuous, but I just knew Cokie had stolen it."

"How can you be so sure?" Dawn asked. "You don't know that's what happened."

"That's true," I admitted. "Anyway, when I took a nap earlier this afternoon, like I said, I dreamed my guardian angel came and showed me what would've happened if I'd never formed the BSC."

"What was it like?" Mary Anne wanted to know.

"Well," I said. "As you can guess, it was pretty awful. For starters, there was total chaos and paranoid parents. In fact, I was almost shot at by Mr. Marshall."

"What about us?" Becca asked.

"Yeah," Vanessa agreed.

"Well, Mary Anne lived by herself in that deathtrap of a house on Rosedale Road."

"The one Mom and I looked at?" Stacey asked. I nodded.

"And get this: not only was Mary Anne a heroin addict, but she actually swore at me, which is something I never thought I'd live to see."

"Are you serious?" Mary Anne asked. I think she was also a little offended. "You know I'd never touch the stuff."

"Whoa," Haley murmured. "All this for never starting the BSC, huh?"

"Exactly," I agreed. "And Jason was in juvie for almost beating a man to death."

"Wow, really?" Jason asked. And you should've seen the look on his face. It was almost as if someone had just told him that there was, in fact, a lost city called Atlantis. "I may have a bit of a temper, but you know I'd never go that far."

"I know that, too, Jason," I said, putting my hand on his. "But it was just so hard for me to believe when I heard that."

"Kristy, if there's one thing I can promise you, it's that I'd never in a million years do something that stupid," Jason reassured me, looking at me with those emerald eyes of his. And in that moment, I started to get a sense of how Claudia must have felt at intermission on opening night of _Carnival._

"What happened next?" Charlotte asked. Just then, Mom and and Watson came into the living room and stood in the doorway.

"Abby and Claud were runaways, Stacey never moved back here, Jessi had joined Dance New York, Charlie was in Texas, Sam couldn't hold his liquor, and Charlotte, Becca, the Pikes, and David Michael were juvenile delinquents."

_"Oy," _the Stevenson twins said together.

"Charlie didn't start rooting for the Cowboys, did he?" Abby asked. I shook my head as I stifled a laugh. If there's one football team Abby never liked, it's the Dallas Cowboys. In fact, she once described Dallas as a horrible city, TV show, and football team.

"Wow," Mom commented. "That's quite a surprise."

"You'll love this part, Mom," I said. "You were a widow living above Hurley's Garage."

"Really?" Watson asked. "What about Karen, Andrew, and Emily?"

"Oh, it gets better," I answered. "Watson, you were dead, Emily was never adopted, and Karen and Andrew had moved to Nebraska with their mom and stepdad."

"Whoa," Stacey said. "Is that all?"

"Yeah," I answered. I had to take some deep breaths to keep myself from falling apart.

"Hey," Watson said gently as he approached me, handed me a tissue, and put his arms around me. "Kristy, it's all right, hon. It was just a dream, and it's all over now. You're here, your family and friends are here, and I promise you, we're all doing fine, okay?"

I nodded as I dabbed at my eyes with the tissue, then threw my arms around Watson. The next thing I knew, Mom, my brothers, Emily, and everyone else had joined our big family hug. If that doesn't look good on a Christmas card, I don't know what does.

Just then, the front door flew open. "We're here!" Karen's voice shouted. All my emotions went into overdrive. I'd never heard such a beautiful sound in all my life.

Mom, Watson, and I went into the front hall. I hugged Karen and Andrew as tightly as I'd hugged Dawn, as well as trying to keep myself from crying.

"Are you all right, Kristy?" Andrew asked.

"Oh, yeah," I grinned. "Everything's great." I was really glad to see them. Not only that, but I was even more glad that everything was finally back the way it should be.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This is the last chapter. (I know it sounds redundant, but I just love saying that.)

**CHAPTER 15**

After Karen and Andrew put their knapsacks in their rooms, they came back down to the party. And just as I'd expected, they each got a plate of food and went to sit by Jason's feet.

"How was Nebraska?" I asked Karen.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Didn't you move there?"

Karen gave me a puzzled look. "Uh, no," she answered. "We're leaving on the day after Christmas, and staying with Granny for a few days. Why do you ask?"

"You won't believe this, but when I took a nap earlier this afternoon, I had the strangest dream," I said. Then I told them every detail of it, including everything that Miriam and I had seen.

"It kind of reminds me of George Bailey in _It's A Wonderful Life," _Karen commented. And as luck would have it, when Charlie turned on the TV in the den, guess what movie was playing, and what scene it was at?

Upon hearing that, Andrew put his coat back on, ran outside, and started running up and down the street, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Porter! Merry Christmas, Mrs. Korman! Merry Christmas, Mrs. Papadakis!" He actually sounded a little like Jimmy Stewart, and the rest of us were just in hysterics. It was so funny.

Had I known what was going to happen next, I would've ran out there and stopped him, because all of a sudden, Andrew slipped on a patch of ice. The thud of that kid's behind hitting the ice made my ears ring for a minute, and I could only imagine the size of that bruise, and how much pain he was in.

"Watson!" I called into the house. The two of us ran outside and helped Andrew to his feet.

"You okay, little buddy?" Charlie asked as we helped Andrew back into the house. Charlie took Andrew's coat and hung it up as Andrew nodded, grimacing in pain. But for some reason, he wasn't crying at all. Now, if that had been me, I guarantee you, I would've been screaming my head off, and as Grandma Thomas would say, "letting loose with the most remarkable string of profanity."

Watson and Charlie took Andrew up to his room as Karen and I returned to the party. "I hope you got your plane tickets reserved well in advance," I said as we sat back down. The reason why I'd said that is because they had a better chance of keeping their seats and scheduled flights, whereas someone who didn't would have to be put on standby, because this is the busiest time of year for airline travel.

"We did," she answered. "Seth got them reserved soon after school started."

"Good. What's the plan for here?"

"Well, we're staying tonight, and going back to Mom and Seth's tomorrow."

"Okay."

Just then, Anna called us into the living room. All of us sat or stood around the piano. Anna started playing "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing". Those of us who could actually carry a tune in a bucket started singing along. I don't remember what else we sang, but I do remember the next song she started playing being "Auld Lang Syne". (Okay, two questions: what's a lang syne, and does anybody here know how to talk like Jerry Seinfeld?)

That's when the doorbell rang. I went to answer it. There stood a woman wearing a brown uniform, and had reddish-brown hair and a UPS truck was parked at the curb behind her. She looked an awful lot like Miriam. "Oh, my God..." I whispered.

"Are you Kristy Thomas?" she asked.

"Yes," I managed to say.

"I've got a package for you," she said. "Sign here, please."

I signed the clipboard, handed it to her, and took the package inside. "What is it?" Mom asked was the others crowded around me.

I tore the package open. Inside was a book, _Amazing But True Sports Stories. _When I opened the book, I saw an inscription inside the front cover:

_Kristy,_

_ Remember, no one is a failure when they have great friends. And believe me, you have the best friends that anyone could ask for, not to mention a great thing going with your baby-sitting. Do me a favor, will you? Don't give that up. If there's one thing I know, it's that putting it together was no mistake. And I know that you know that, too. Good luck, Godspeed, and I'll be watching over you._

_ Miriam_

_P.S. Thanks for the wings._

That's when I glanced over at the tree and saw a really bright white Christmas light near the top, as bright as the Star of Bethlehem. In fact, it made the other lights look like flecks of glitter. That's how bright it was.

"Way to go, Miriam," I whispered. "I knew you'd get your wings." I took my new book upstairs to my room, then returned to my friends as Anna finished "Auld Lang Syne".

"Hey, Kristy, look at that light up there!" Emily exclaimed, pointing at the tree. "Why is it so bright?"

I smiled warmly and picked up my baby sister. "Somebody out there's doing all right," I said. And I knew Miriam was all right. For that matter, so was I, so was my family, and so was the Baby-sitters Club.

In that moment, I knew I'd done the right thing.

**THE END**


End file.
